


your heart's a fickle thing (but it belongs to me)

by calmbeforethestorm



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Sad sad sad, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmbeforethestorm/pseuds/calmbeforethestorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“if you love somebody, let them go, <br/>for if they return, they were always yours. <br/>if they don’t, they never were.” <br/>― kahlil gibran</p>
            </blockquote>





	your heart's a fickle thing (but it belongs to me)

Gavin,

You’ll never read this letter. But this is the only way I can convey how I feel without the threat of you leaving me. How pathetic is that? 

I knew from the beginning that you were someone that could never be restrained or restricted, a sovereign lover that, as you put it, “couldn’t be caged into the institution of monogamy”. You made that clear from the moment I managed to work up the courage to ask you out. I was fairly certain that we’d go nowhere, that I’d just be another notch in your bedpost. But then you offered to go out together again and again until finally, you said we should just move in together. If, and only if, it was an open relationship (you said if I wanted to see other people that was fine, but there was no one else I could imagine being with).

“My last name is Free, love.” You once said, and I’ve always accepted that.

Which isn’t to say that whenever I see you with another person, with that charming smile of yours sweeping people off their feet, a pit of jealousy doesn’t form in my stomach. It still makes me want to interrupt your ‘conversation’ with them, throw an arm over your shoulder and tell them “Sorry, he’s taken.” but I know if I did, you’d get upset and wouldn’t talk to me for days (and I wouldn’t be able to handle that again).

So when you send me a text that reads “Don’t wait up for me”, I close my eyes and sigh.

Sometimes I flop onto the couch, throwing myself into a video game to take out my frustration. or I go out with friends who try to distract me with bad jokes and junk food. Most of the time though, I go straight to bed and try not to think about you being with someone that isn’t me. It never works, and every time I think about it I can’t sleep because it feels like I’m drowning.

In the morning, before the sun’s even up, I hear the door open and suddenly feel the warmth of your body pressed against mine. That’s when I can breathe again. I pretend to still be asleep, though you probably know I’m not. We stay there for hours, no words passing between us.

I know to keep my malcontent to myself. The one time I tried to protest, you left, barely said a single word to me at work, and stayed away from the apartment for a whole week (I thought I was going to lose my mind). I sent you about a hundred messages of “I’m sorry”. The next Friday when you finally returned, you acted as if nothing had happened and dragged me straight into the bedroom. A normal person probably would have given up at that point.

Too bad I’ve never been normal. Or rational. Or able to leave you.

Sometimes I feel like you do it just to tease me, to see how far you can push the boundaries before I can feel my chest tightening, air seemingly gone yet again. Like the time a bunch of the people from the office went to a bar (and you’d forced me to come along), and within the hour you were wasted and dancing with some girl. I ignored how much it bothered me, trying to make conversation with our co-workers, until I saw you looking straight at me, grinding against her but smirking at me.

I really hated you for that.

Shortly after that, I left, sending you a text I knew you wouldn’t read for hours that simply said “You’re an ass”.

You showed up the next afternoon and while I was playing one of the new DLC maps for Call of Duty, I put on my false smile as if everything was fine. You went straight to the shower, before curling up beside me on the couch. You placed your chin on my shoulder and looked up at me with those fucking gorgeous eyes of yours, and said you were sorry for doing what you did to me last night. That it was a low blow. That you were just trying to have a little fun but didn’t think about how fucked up it was because you were drunk. 

I looked over at you and sighed. You pouted like a goddamn child, before taking away my controller and climbing on top of me. That’s when I realized I can’t hate you for very long.

You kiss me and say that it won’t happen again.

It does.

When a few months of this had gone by, we were in bed one night, sweating and breathing heavily, your chest pressed against mine as you left red marks on my neck. We were practically melded together, moving in perfect sync. You’ve always known exactly where my weaknesses are and constantly exploit them. It’s when you hit me in rapid succession just like the fucking expert (hah) you are and I’m seeing stars, and that’s when I made the mistake of saying it. 

“I love you.”

It just came out (again, hah) before I could stop myself, and you didn’t even finish yourself off. You stared down at me with a quizzical look, as if I’d just spoken gibberish.

The most awkward silence fell between us, and I panicked. I was suddenly terrified that this was too much of a commitment for you and you were going to leave me. After a minute, you shrugged. You kissed my forehead. You said you can’t love. That’s it’s ‘impossible’ for you, because really, 'what is love?' Just a social construct and nothing more. a mere synthesis of chemicals going off in your brain.

We went back to fucking. You pretended like I never said anything and I tried not to let it show how much pain I was in. When you passed out afterwards, I went to the washroom and cried like the stupid, heartbroken idiot that I am.

I woke up the next morning alone. You, already off and ready to spend the weekend with strangers.

And yet I’m always the one you come back to. You have a whole slew of potential lovers at your disposal, but you never go to them again after the affair. I’m the constant, the stable rock that’s always there while you waste away on loose stepping stones. I guess that’s why I haven’t dumped you yet, because I keep praying that eventually you’ll realize just how much you need me and that I’m enough for you.

Maybe love is just the combination of dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin pumping through a person’s limbic system. But you’re the only person that releases those chemicals for me.

(I hope some day I’ll be the only one for you)


End file.
